


I'm Never Drinking Again

by phoenixquest



Series: Ryndoril and Ondolemar Modern AU [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4233495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixquest/pseuds/phoenixquest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryndoril goes out drinking with his friend, Sam. Ryndoril's too smashed to keep partying, so Sam sends Ryndoril back to Sam's apartment, telling him there's a key. Ryndoril is also too smashed to find the correct apartment, and wakes up to quite the surprise the following morning.<br/>Ryndoril/Ondolemar Modern AU. Does not follow their other AU on here, totally different canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Never Drinking Again

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, honestly, I'm not actually sure how good this is. But I tried. I got it from a prompt on Tumblr somewhere (that I didn't save, of course, but it was something about less meet-cute and more meet-ugly, I think?) I couldn't get it out of my head for these two, and I've finally finished and edited it. I hope you like my attempt, anyway :)

“Dammit, Sam,” Ryndoril cursed, shoving the doormat back in place. His friend had assured him there’d be a key under there before running off with the three women at the bar.

There wasn’t.

It was a good thing he knew how to pick a lock – not that he was terribly up for the task at the moment. He’d definitely had too much to drink, however much Sam tried to convince him to keep going – but he’d insisted he had to go to bed. He just wasn’t up to the kind of trouble Sam got into these days.

Sam had given him his address, reluctant to see his friend go but anxious to get on with his night, and told him there’d be a key and he’d see him in the morning. Fortunately, Ryndoril had managed to find the place; it was in a block of apartments and hard to get _too_ lost. Unable to find the key, he picked the lock – less efficiently than he would have sober, but it worked eventually. He shut the door behind him, stumbled across the room, and fell onto the sofa. He couldn’t make himself get back up, so decided it was as good a place to sleep as any.

Ryndoril heard a noise, and in his inebriated state in the dark, he couldn’t quite get his bearings enough to figure it out. Did Sam have a roommate?

“Mrrow,” an insistent sound came from next to him. Ryndoril looked over and was able to make out the fuzzy outline of a giant, fluffy cat.

“Didn’t know Sam had a cat,” he said, holding his hand out to it. It sniffed his hand cautiously, sizing him up, and apparently decided he wasn’t a threat. “Don’t worry, kitty. Sam’ll be home in the morning.”

“Meow,” the cat replied, and the next thing Ryndoril knew, it had jumped on top of him. He jumped in surprise, then winced as it climbed over his face.

“Dammit, cat,” Ryndoril grumbled, but he was too disoriented to try to move much. The animal finally settled on the edge of the sofa, partly resting on the top of Ryndoril’s head. He was about to push it away, but it started purring; the sound was soothing, so he reached up and gave it a scratch behind the ears instead. “Good night, you brute,” Ryndoril mumbled. Before he knew it, he was asleep.

*****

Ondolemar sighed as he walked into his apartment. It was earlier than he’d usually be up, but he just couldn’t handle his niece anymore. He had been staying with his brother’s family for a few days, just to visit (and give his brother and sister-in-law time without the kid), but the young girl was at the “screeching” stage, and he’d finally had enough.

He was mildly surprised when his cat, Hamlet, didn’t run to greet him. Not that the cat was affectionate, but he could be ridiculously dramatic when he wanted fed. Ondolemar had left more than enough food for the animal while he was gone, but he knew just how melodramatic the cat was – hence his name. He chalked it up to Hamlet being too lazy to wake up yet and headed for his bedroom to unpack his bag.

Walking into the living room, he saw Hamlet’s tail twitch. He glanced over at the sofa, continued on his way, then stopped for a double-take.

Hamlet was not the only one on the sofa. In fact, he was only partly obscuring messy red hair attached to a person with rather tan skin, who was still wearing shoes. And clearly fast asleep.

Ondolemar stared in shock for a moment, then realized he could hear Hamlet purring contentedly. What in the world was going on here? He’d never seen anyone that looked like this person before, he certainly didn’t know them. Why were they in his apartment? And why was Hamlet so pleased about it?

He crept closer to the sofa. The person didn’t appear to be dangerous – hard to be, seeing as they were dead asleep – but he was still cautious. 

“Mrrow!” Hamlet stated then, loudly greeting Ondolemar. He shifted a little, but the red-headed person grumbled and as Ondolemar watched, reached a hand up to stroke the cat.

“Shh,” the person murmured sleepily, not opening their eyes. “Good kitty.” A snore punctuated the last part. Hamlet closed his eyes happily as the hand stroked him, and Ondolemar couldn’t help a snort of amusement. The stranger treating his cat so kindly had to say something good about them, didn’t it? And Hamlet’s dislike for strangers told him a lot, as well. The cat wasn’t normally so tolerant.

Ondolemar could not for the life of him think of what a strange person might be doing, sleeping on his sofa. They didn’t seem to be at all dangerous; would it be all right to wake them? They didn’t seem to be armed with anything – Ondolemar could see both of their hands, one of which was still resting on Hamlet.

Deciding that his curiosity couldn’t wait any longer, Ondolemar walked over to the sofa. Just as he reached out to wake the stranger, Hamlet gave another loud meow and jumped down, not taking the slightest care to avoid stepping on the stranger’s head.

“Ahh,” the stranger – a man, Ondolemar realized with the scruffy stubble on his face – groaned, waking up and looking disgruntled as he patted his head. “Damn cat.”

“Yes, he does that,” Ondolemar said wryly. He’d been the victim of such an experience more times than he could count. The strange man turned to look at him, startled brown eyes looking utterly confused. “Do you mind telling me why you happen to be passed out on my sofa?”

*****

Ryndoril stared at the man in front of him, mouth hanging open. This was definitely not Sam – this man was a good deal more handsome than Sam, for one – and for a moment he just couldn’t think what to say.

“Uh…” he said dumbly, blinking slowly at the stranger. “I’m Sam’s friend. Are you his roommate or something?” 

The other man raised an eyebrow, looking as bewildered as Ryndoril felt. “I do not have a roommate,” he said. “This is my apartment, and I live here alone. Well, and with the furry beast that tried to scalp you.”

“Shit,” Ryndoril cursed. What the hell was going on? “Shit!” he said again, and he tried to roll over to sit up but ran out of sofa, resulting in him falling on the floor. “Shit,” he muttered, facedown. He heard an amused chuckle. Well, the strange man didn’t seem to be _angry_. That had to count for something.

“I’m going to hazard a guess you found the wrong apartment,” Ondolemar spoke up. Ryndoril groaned and rolled over, pulling himself to a sitting position with the aid of the sofa. His stomach rolled and his head pounded as he sat up; this was _not_ good.

“I…uh…guess so,” Ryndoril said, looking sheepishly up at the man. Gods, he was handsome, with a pale, pretty face and long golden hair. And Ryndoril had to look like garbage, spending the night on the sofa like that. “I had a lot to drink, and he told me his apartment was number nineteen – “

“This is number sixteen,” Ondolemar smirked. 

“That explains the key,” Ryndoril sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. “I had to pick the lock, because the key wasn’t where he said it was, and – oh, _shit_ ,” he said, dropping his hands and staring up at the man, mortified. “I broke into your apartment. I picked your lock.”

“So it would seem,” Ondolemar agreed. “At least you didn’t break a window, I suppose.”

“ _Shit_. I’m sorry,” Ryndoril apologized quickly, shaking his head and wincing as it caused a painful throb. “Really. I – don’t call the cops, okay? Please.”

“I didn’t plan to,” Ondolemar said. He was finding the man’s situation quite funny, and even a little endearing. He was cute, and so nonplussed it was hard to be angry with him. “Besides, my cat likes you. That tells me you can’t be too bad.”

“I thought it was weird he had a cat,” Ryndoril commented. “Nice cat, though,” he added politely.

“I’m not sure I’d use the word ‘nice’, but thank you,” Ondolemar snorted. “My name is Ondolemar,” he added, holding out his hand.

“Ryndoril,” the man muttered, taking his hand. It was warm and soft, and Ryndoril liked it very much. “My friends call me Ryn.” He squeezed his eyes shut against the pounding in his head; this had to stop. “I need to go,” Ryndoril said. “I – dammit. I’m really sorry. I can even replace your lock or something if you want. I’ll get out of here.” He made to stand, but the very action made him dizzy, and he felt a hand on his shoulder, pressing him back down. Green eyes full of concern swam before his gaze.

“Just hold on a few moments,” Ondolemar said in a gentle voice, frowning as he knelt next to him. “You’re not well.”

“Only a hangover,” Ryndoril muttered. “Just…been a while since I had to deal with one. But I need to go – this is just – gods, I feel awful. I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Ondolemar finally said. “If you were going to rob me, you wouldn’t have fallen asleep on my sofa, and you’re in no condition to murder me – I think I’m safe enough for now.” Ryndoril didn’t feel much better about that. “Just sit there for a moment. I’ll get you some coffee…and an aspirin.”

“Thank you,” Ryndoril sighed with relief, unable to argue anymore. He could hardly believe his luck. Ondolemar patted him on the shoulder in a reassuring way before getting up.

It wasn’t long before the cat wandered back over, insistently headbutting Ryndoril’s hand to beg for attention.

“You know, that was a cruel way to wake someone up,” Ryndoril told the cat. “Are all cats so mean?”

“Meow!” the cat stated loudly. Ryndoril winced.

“No shouting,” he scolded him, but scratched behind his ears anyway. He purred loudly.

“I apologize for the cat,” Ondolemar said as he returned with aspirin and a glass of water. “He’s a bit dramatic.”

“He seems sweet,” Ryndoril said, leaning his head back against the sofa. “Gods. I’m never drinking again.” Ondolemar chuckled.

“I’m sure you’ve never said that before,” he commented. “Here. Take an aspirin; I’ve started the coffee.”

“You’re being very sympathetic, for coming home to find a complete stranger crashing on your sofa,” Ryndoril observed.

“It’s so odd that part of me is sure I’m still asleep and dreaming it all,” Ondolemar replied.

“If that’s the case, can you dream me a little less hung over?” Ryndoril asked. Ondolemar laughed as Ryndoril took the pills. “Gods, the water is good. Can I ask to use your bathroom?” Drinking the water had made him very aware he needed to pee.

“Door on the right,” Ondolemar said, pointing. Ryndoril nodded his thanks and headed into the bathroom, feeling completely foolish.

“Well done, Ryn,” he muttered to himself. “First handsome man you’ve set eyes on in months, and you broke into his house, drunk.” He hurried about his business, scrubbing his face with a bit of water as well, wishing he looked less scruffy.

After straightening out his clothes, combing his fingers through his hair, and generally making himself as presentable as he could under the circumstances, he walked back out to find Ondolemar sitting at the small kitchen table with a cup of coffee. Another cup sat across from him, presumably for Ryndoril.

“Hey,” he said, taking the seat as Ondolemar glanced up at him. “Thanks a lot, my friend.”

“Not a problem,” Ondolemar said with a bit of a smile. “Do you make a habit of doing this sort of thing?”

“Breaking and entering to sleep on a stranger’s sofa, or drinking?” Ryndoril asked with a short chuckle. He winced as it hurt his head a little, but Ondolemar smiled. “Neither, though, really. Can’t say I’ve ever done _this_ part at all before,” he added dryly, glancing around. “But I don’t go out drinking much anymore. That’s where Sam has me beat. I’d be surprised if he’s even home yet.”

“This morning is sounding less surprising,” Ondolemar smirked. 

A sudden loud yowl made them both jump and look over. Hamlet was on his back, staring at Ondolemar like he was on the verge of starving.

“Oh, hush, you dramatic thing,” Ondolemar grumbled, getting up. “You had plenty of food while I was gone.” Ryndoril laughed.

“I’ve never really been around cats,” he remarked as Ondolemar put more food into Hamlet’s already-half-full bowl. The cat got to his feet and eagerly ate it. “Are they all like this?”

“No,” Ondolemar said dryly, taking his seat again. “He is just too dramatic for his own good.”

“He’s cute, though,” Ryndoril said fondly, looking at the cat. Ondolemar smiled, pleased.

“So, if you were meant to be staying with your friend – Sam, was it? – I presume you don’t live around here,” Ondolemar noted as they drank their coffee.

“Yeah, Sam,” Ryndoril nodded. “I live about a half hour outside the city, so not too far, but the state I was in…it was better to not even try,” he finished with a chuckle.

“Obviously,” Ondolemar said playfully. “Who knows where you may have ended up?” Ryndoril blushed a little, but grinned.

“At least I wouldn’t have bothered you,” he said guiltily.

“You’re…not a bother,” Ondolemar replied awkwardly. “That sounds stupid, I apologize. Just – you are quite friendly, and it can get a bit lonely around here.” His face reddened as he finished, and he looked away.

“It must be, if you’re this nice about a stranger breaking in and passing out on your sofa,” Ryndoril joked. Ondolemar ducked his head, feeling uncomfortable. “Hey,” Ryndoril said, his voice softer. “I’m only kidding you. I really appreciate your kindness, Ondolemar. And…it’s been nice to meet you.”

“Really?” Ondolemar asked, looking wary but hopeful as he met Ryndoril’s eyes again. Ryndoril grinned.

“Really,” he assured the other man. He swallowed the last of his coffee, setting the mug down. “And I’m feeling a bit better. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome,” Ondolemar said sincerely.

“I probably should get going,” Ryndoril said, though he didn’t stand up. “Find Sam’s _actual_ apartment.”

“Probably for the best,” Ondolemar agreed with a small smirk, though part of him wished the other man would stay.

“I…uh…” Ryndoril started, trailing off and rubbing the back of his neck, unsure how to proceed. “I could leave you my number. You know, in case you want me to replace that lock after all…or…something.” Ondolemar perked up.

“Er…yes,” Ondolemar agreed. “That would be…good. Here,” he added, and got up to find a pen and paper. Ryndoril scribbled down his number.

“There,” he said, giving a half-smile to Ondolemar. “Er…you know. For the lock. Or just…anytime.”

“I’ll remember that,” Ondolemar said, smiling in return. “Sure you can find the right apartment now?” Ryndoril laughed.

“Probably,” he said. He walked over to pet the cat before leaving. “Bye, Hamlet. Thanks for the cuddles.”

“Mrrr?” Hamlet asked around a mouthful of food. Ryndoril chuckled and then headed for the door, waving at Ondolemar as he left.

Ondolemar watched him walk out, feeling a pang of loss – he didn’t really have friends to spend time with, and his apartment was more often empty than anything. The company – strange as the circumstance was – had been nice, and the red-haired man was certainly interesting.

He stared at the number written on the paper. Perhaps he’d have to call about that lock very soon.


End file.
